


tessellate

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2649590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That ill-advised heist au. Piper and Alex meet on a mission, eyeing the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. tessellate

The first time Piper sees her on stage, all Piper sees are those legs in those fishnets. _Legs for days,_ Piper thinks, loosening her tie and breathing out. _Mental note to ask around for her later._

Piper thinks _later_ because _now_ she's here on business.

"See anything you like?"

Piper smiles. She's tried time and again to figure out a way to enter this man's bar without having to interact with him, but alas, she's pressed for time and there's no room for _creativity._ "You know me, George," she just says, following him to his usual corner booth. "I like all sorts of things."

"That's what Larry likes about you," says George. Piper tries not to flinch; Larry's long gone but it surely doesn't hurt to get to drop his name every once in a while for business purposes. "How _is_ Larry?"

"The usual," Piper deadpans. _God knows which time zone he's in right now._ "He's doing great. Thanks for asking."

 _George Mendez and Larry Bloom,_ Piper thinks, scanning the dimly lit venue. _Birds of a feather._

"What brings you here then?"

Piper's eyes stop at a door. _Your office,_ she thinks idly. _Eyes on the prize._ She makes a show of scanning the area, before slowly eyeing the stage -- and meeting _her_ stare. Piper startles, but only briefly. _Well. Aren't you an intense thing?_  

"Ms Chapman? I was asking--"

"About what brought me here. I heard you," she says, letting her eyes linger a bit longer than necessary. The girl smirks at her before turning around to wrap up her routine. “I was going to say I came around for a bit of _adventure_.”

Mendez laughs, moving closer. Piper exhales, inching away as she shrugs his wandering hands off her shoulder. Mendez clears his throat. “Adventure?” he says just as a burst of applause rings out.

Piper turns her head just in time to see the girl onstage preparing to leave. She catches Piper’s eyes in the crowd and winks right at her, the gesture so small Piper would have totally missed it, had she not been staring right back.

 _Who are you?_ Piper thinks idly. Then, turning to George: “You know. Larry and I were always looking for a bit of _fun_.”

“ _Now_ we’re talking.”

 _You disgusting little shit,_ Piper thinks, smiling sweetly at him. “The girl on stage just now -- what’s her name?”

Mendez gives her a confused look. “You mean Alex?” Piper nods, rolling the name around in her tongue. “I didn’t think Vause would be your type at all.”

 _Alex Vause._ “We go for tall, hot ones,” Piper says, picking up her drink and finishing it in one go. “The height difference is irresistible.”

*

George insists on introducing them. Despite Piper’s refusal, she finds herself being escorted to the bar anyway, some fifteen minutes later, where a distracted Alex is busy wiping glasses.

“Vause,” he begins, using that tone Piper intensely dislikes. Alex does not even look up. “This is Ms Chapman.”

“Piper,” she offers immediately. And then, turning to George: “Mr Mendez. _Please._ ” He looks at her, confused for a moment, before he starts walking backwards slowly. Piper looks at him throughout, like she’s waiting for him to actually disappear. _Good boy,_ Piper thinks, before turning to Alex. “Ms Vause, right?”

“My name’s Alex,” she says, smiling at Piper, hands braced against the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Depends,” says Piper. “What are you having?”

“I can’t drink while I’m working.”

“What time do you get off work then?”

Alex laughs; the sound feels like she’s reaching into Piper and _twisting_ things into small knots. Piper swallows hard, noting the arch of Alex’s brow. “Three,” Alex says, drawing it out.

Piper glances at her watch – time says quarter to two. “I’ll wait.”

“Have a drink then,” says Alex. “Whatever you want.”

“You know what I want.”

Alex laughs again, but the sound is different this time – like it now has shaky jagged edges. “Well,” she says, licking at her lower lip. “Guess we’ll have to move a notch lower on that list.”

Piper bites down on the tip of her tongue. “Fine,” she relents. “A margarita then.”

“A bit cold out for a margarita, don’t you think?”

Piper rolls her eyes. “Too early for tequila,” she says. “Besides – whatever I want, right?”

“ _Right._ ” Alex rubs her hands together as she turns away. “Be right back.”

 _Focus, Chapman,_ Piper tells herself, staring at the back of Alex’s shirt, tucked haphazardly into her jeans. _Damn._ Coming here tonight, she had not expected to be… _distracted._

 _Suppose it could be done some other time?_ In the corner of her eye, she sees Mendez locking up his office for the night. Piper feels her fingertips itch. _Suppose it could also be done tonight._

_Damn._

Piper waits for Alex to disappear into the back room before slipping away from the bar and walking toward the dark corridor that leads to Mendez’s office. She reaches into her back pocket for something to pick the lock with, looking around casually before leaning in for the kill.

The door opens easily. _Too easy,_ Piper thinks, stepping into the office, feeling for her gun. She touches the back of her ear absently. _I should have said yes to back up._ The room feels colder than usual, and Piper feels it in her gut.

_Something is not right here._

“Well then.”

Piper turns around and whips her pistol out, stepping closer to the sound. _Fuck._ She catches a glimpse of a shadow standing in a corner by the window. _Do I wound or do I kill?_

“Show yourself,” Piper says, squinting until her eyes adjust better to the darkness. _Oh hell, no._ “You?”

Alex steps into the light, arms crossed and smiling. “You always greet friends with your gun out?”

“We’re not friends.”

“You were _hitting_ on me back there.”

“People have hobbies,” says Piper, motioning for Alex to come closer with one hand, still gripping her gun in the other. “What are you doing here?”

“People have _hobbies,_ ” Alex replies, stepping closer with her hands up. “I’m not armed.”

“How did you get in?”

“Just like you did,” Alex says, holding up a hairpin as she perches herself upon the corner of Mendez’s table. “Look. I don’t want trouble.”

“You’re standing inside your boss’s office _after_ he’s closed up for the night. You _are_ in a lot of trouble,” says Piper. “But go on.”

“It’s complicated.”

Piper rolls her eyes, putting her gun back in her holster. “Trust me. I _do_ complicated all the time.”

“Do you?” Alex says, a hint of a laugh punctuating her question. “Doesn’t matter -- we’re in, I don’t think anybody really cares so, yeah. Let me just get what I came for.”

“You’re looking for something.”

Alex says nothing as she walks over to the other side of the table, eyeing the trophies standing atop the filing cabinets. _No, no, no—_

“You are _not_ after _that_ , are you?” says Piper.

Alex does not even look over her shoulder. “I _so_ am,” she says, picking one of the statues up. _This motherfucker._ Piper feels her jaw drop slightly. _Wait a minute._ “You don’t have your gun out again, do you, Ms Chapman?”

“It’s _Piper,_ ” she says through gritted teeth. “There is no way you’re walking out of that door with _that_.”

“You’re still not shooting at me though,” says Alex, opening the window wider. _Shit she is not—is she?_ “Also: Who said anything about doors?”

“Oh, come _on._ ”

Alex smirks at her before slipping out. “Call me.”

*

“You _what?_ ”

“I know.”

“You were already _inside_ the room, Piper. What is wrong with you?”

“I said I’m _sorry,_ Polly. I didn’t—I didn’t know okay? Someone else was after it.”

“Jesus _Christ._ And this person is working for whom?”

“Didn’t say.”

“Of _course_ that person wouldn’t say—did you say it was a woman?”

“Five-nine, five-ten. _Ish_. Dark rimmed glasses, dark hair.”

“Great. Just great.” Piper closes her eyes, trying not to imagine how Polly’s probably pacing in her office with her phone in her ear. She glances at the clock on the dashboard: Two thirty. _Probably should head home._ “Any tattoos?”

“Tattoos?”

“There’s this Russian-led group operating downtown—”

 _Of fucking course._ Piper sighs. “Both wrists, a forearm I think. Roses on one arm.”

“How _predictable_ ,” says Polly. Piper says nothing. “Do _something,_ Piper.”

Piper clears her throat. “Don’t worry about it,” Piper says, putting on her stern voice. “We’ll get it back.”

“We better,” says Polly. “You headed home?”

Piper starts her engine. “Driving around for a bit before turning in. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“You’re a horrible hoodlum, but I still love you. You know that, right?”

“Love you too.” Piper manages a smile as she tosses her phone onto the passenger seat. This night has been thoroughly exhausting, but somehow Piper feels so _awake_ , like she could use another drink.

 _Well. This night has been full of bad ideas anyway._ Piper takes another look at the red-lit exit sign before killing her engine and getting out of her car.

“Looks like you could use a drink.”

 _Fucking hell._ “You again.”

“You owe me a beer,” Alex says, smirk half-hidden in the shadows.

“You owe me an antique statue,” Piper says, approaching her slowly. “Trade?”

Alex leans against the wall, crossing her arms. _Girl knows how to lean,_ Piper notes, casually reaching behind her to double check if she’s still got the knife in her back pocket. “Are you kidding me?” Alex asks. “Someone’s willing to pay a huge amount of money for that statue, and I doubt—”

“Who?” 

Alex raises her brow at Piper, pushing herself off the wall to meet her halfway. “ _Now,_ you’re really joking. Right?”

“Nope,” Piper says, stopping two steps away from her. Up close, Piper finds that she has to look up to meet her eye. _Fucking massive, aren’t we._ “Who are you working for?”

“And I’m supposed to answer that question?”

Piper takes the knife out from her back pocket and idly holds it in one hand. “Yes.”

“And then what? You’d knife me right here in this alley if I refuse?”

“Maybe.”

“Great. ‘Waitress found dead behind bar.’ I’m sure Mendez would remember the _last_ person he introduced me to, won’t he?”

 _That little fucker._ “Then let’s make sure you don’t get found.”

Alex steps closer, still smiling. Piper grips her knife tighter. “Come on, kid. _Play nice._ ”

“I _was_ playing nice,” says Piper. “I was asking if you’d be interested in a trade, wasn’t I?”

“I was going to say that could be arranged, but let’s set some ground rules, hm? Let’s start with _this._ ” Alex takes another step before picking up Piper’s knife-holding wrist gently. “I’d be happy to talk trade if I weren’t approached with such… _hostility._ ”

Then she goes ahead and plants a soft kiss on the back of Piper’s hand. Knife and all. Piper stares, frozen. _This certainly isn’t in any of the blueprints._

“What, no witty comeback?”

After an eternity, Piper pulls her hand back, stashing her knife into her back pocket. “Come on then,” she says, pushing past Alex and heading for the door. “You said you wanted a beer.”

*

Sitting across Piper in one of the bar’s corner booths, Alex looks almost normal – like an _actual_ waitress unwinding afterhours, and not whoever it was Piper encountered inside Mendez’s office about an hour ago.

“Where is it then?”

“You always talk shop over drinks?”

Piper pouts. “Like I have anything I’d like to talk about with you.”

“Seemed like you had a couple of good ideas when you were picking me up earlier,” Alex says, sipping from her beer.

“What’s _exactly_ your game plan here? You plan to what? Charm my pants off? And _then_ what?”

“Well, yeah, that and two million dollars, maybe.”

“Two million—what?”

Alex narrows her eyes at her. “You didn’t _know_ it could fetch that much, did you?”

 _God damn it, Polly._ “You were going to sell it for two million dollars?”

“What can I say? My patrons are loaded.”

“Your _patrons_?”

“I don’t do employment well,” Alex says, leaning back and looking into her beer.

“What do _you_ do well?”

Alex smiles at her. “Moving stuff, mostly -- from point A,” she says, gesturing to Mendez’s closed door. “To point B.”

Piper laughs, staring at Alex’s finger, now pointed at her. “You didn’t have to move the damn thing – I was already _inside_.”

“And yet where is the statue now?”

 _Fuck you._ “Fine,” Piper sighs, taking another sip from her margarita while trying to wrap her head around the figure. _Two million. Why settle for five hundred grand?_ “But I doubt you could sell it for as much as you say.”

“For the sake of argument, how much did _you_ think you could sell it?”

“A million’s a _stretch_ ,” Piper says.

“Then you’re not a good salesperson,” says Alex, laughing into her beer, her eyes twinkling naughtily.

 _All things considered, it’s kind of hard not to like her._ Piper tries to hold back a smile but fails. “So is this how the rest of the night’s going to be?” she asks, finishing her margarita. “You teasing me endlessly for perceived inadequacies?”

Alex just stares at Piper as she empties her beer bottle, making a show of slowly wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, after. Piper bites down on the tip of her tongue to keep from making a sound. “ _Perceived_ inadequacies?” Alex asks. “You want to prove me wrong then?”

Piper shrugs. “I have nothing to prove.”

“Sell me something then.”

“ _What_?”

“Come on. Humor me.”

Piper takes a long look, trying to decipher whether Alex is joking or not; Alex just looks back at her, dead serious. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Piper inhales deeply before settling into her chair more comfortably. _Well then._ Piper starts by undoing the first button of her top, watching for Alex’s reaction. _If I squint this way,_ Piper thinks, moving one button lower.

“What are you doing?” Alex asks finally, as Piper moves for the third button.

“Selling something,” Piper just says.

Alex laughs – this low throaty growl that escapes her mouth. “All right,” she says finally, clearing her throat. “Let me buy you a drink.”

*

Piper buys the fourth round, and in between the fifth and sixth rounds, Piper goes ahead and kisses her. Alex startles, but only very briefly; she takes a moment before getting into it, letting out the smallest of sounds before pulling Piper back in, hands threaded in Piper’s hair.

To say that Alex kisses _well_ would be to do it a disservice; she kisses _more_ than well. _There has to be a word for this,_ Piper thinks, scratching at the collar of Alex’s shirt and marveling at the feel of Alex smiling against her lips.

“No marks,” she murmurs against Piper’s mouth.

“Why,” asks Piper, digging in. “Afraid someone would notice?”

“Maybe.” Alex says. And then: “Aren’t you married?”

Piper pulls away, slightly thrown. “Depends who’s asking.”

“ _I’m_ asking.” Alex rearranges her glasses on the bridge of her nose before tucking a stray strand of hair behind Piper’s ear.

“Well. Almost,” Piper says, trying to regain her composure. She touches the ring on her hand absently; she figured it was useful in warding off unwanted advances. _Except clearly for some._ “Didn’t make it to D-Day, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What happened?”

Piper mulls the question over, thinking about which cover story to tell this time. Piper’s always lied about Larry, and for far too often that she can no longer remember which among these stories was true. “Irreconcilable differences,” Piper just says, pushing off Alex, suddenly self-conscious.

“Sorry,” says Alex. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

Piper buttons up, fingers shaky. “It’s all right.” Suddenly, she feels all too sober. “Time check?”

“Four,” Alex says. “Why, you have to be up early for _actual_ work?”

“Sort of.”

Alex narrows her eyes at her. “You’re not driving, right?”

When Piper shakes her head, she feels the headache starting to creep in. “Nope,” she says. “Definitely not in any condition to drive.”

The way the look on Alex’s face shifts from serious to _something else_ – Piper tries to ignore the way her stomach just _knots_ under her stare. “Listen,” Alex says, breathing in. “I live nearby.”

“Is that how you stashed the statue away so quickly?”

Alex laughs. “I’ll just pretend you asked if that’s how I get all the girls to come home with me. In which case, I’ll answer yes.”

 _Well then._ Piper takes a moment to consider, chewing on her lower lip. For some reason she can’t shake off the thought that Alex feels like a spider luring Piper the fly into her parlor. _Eyes on the prize, Chapman._ “What makes you think I’ll go home with you?”

“Said it yourself,” Alex says. “I have your statue.”

*

It’s a fact that Piper knows well: She shuts down when around attractive people, and she _knows_ that’s exactly what’s happening here, as she steps out of the elevator, hand in Alex’s.

 _She’s got the statue, Chapman._ She keeps telling herself that to keep the thought from being pushed back into the back of her head, but _Jesus,_ the way Alex looks at her as she’s opening the door – it’s like she’s asking, _Are you ready for this?_

Truth be told, Piper’s shit at preparation – Polly _hates_ it about her, how she’s always into _improvising_ on missions, adjusting timelines and, once, almost getting killed.

So, to say that she’s totally unprepared for how Alex’s flat looks is an understatement.

“So,” Alex clears her throat, flipping a switch. “Welcome.”

Piper blinks twice. “This is where you live,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant, looking around the place: Basically, a huge flat that’s littered with statues of all sizes, it’s practically a fucking museum wing.   

“Impressive, huh,” Alex just says, dropping her keys on the table beside the door before heading into what Piper assumes to be the kitchen. “Are you thirsty?”

 _Thirsty? I’m fucking confused,_ Piper thinks. She walks in after her, watching her steps like she’s about to break something at every turn. When she looks up, she finds Alex staring at her from behind the kitchen counter, smiling into the glass of water in her hand.

“A lot to take in, huh?”

“What _do_ you do?” Piper asks. “I mean. When I saw you on stage—”

“You _were_ watching, weren’t you?”

Piper feels a blush creep up her neck slowly. “Well. Kind of hard to ignore the fishnets.”

“I heard Mendez was into long-legged girls.”

“Probably also heard about his antique collection in his office,” Piper says.

“So did you.”

Piper sighs, bracing her hands against the cold marble of Alex’s kitchen counter. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You kind of interrupted yourself.”

Piper laughs. _God, this woman._ “What do you _do_ , Alex?”

“I’ve already told you -- I _move_ things.”

“And what, live with them in your fucking museum of a flat?”

Alex laughs, setting her empty glass by the sink before moving closer to Piper. “It doubles as a showroom,” she says, so close now that her shoulder brushes against Piper’s. It’s like she’s reminding Piper: _Now, where were we?_

 _Not until I see that fucking trophy._ Piper forces herself to scan the room, but she feels her eyesight blur at the feel of Alex planting a kiss behind her ear.

“See anything you like?” Alex whispers.

 _Fuck it,_ Piper tells herself, turning her head to meet Alex’s lips in an open-mouthed kiss, hands threading behind Alex’s neck and pulling her in.

_I’ll go shopping later._

*

The sun’s already up when Piper wakes, slightly jolted and disoriented. _Where am I? Why am I—_ Oh. She looks beside her and sees Alex still sleeping on her stomach, sheets pulled down to her waist. Piper stares at the skin of her back, studying the tattoos there. _For the record,_ Piper tells herself. _Polly’s always asking about tattoos._

Piper lets her fingers trace them lightly, unable to ultimately stop herself. _Just for a moment,_ she thinks, holding her breath as Alex stirs and shifts until she’s lying on her side, facing Piper. Like this, Alex has Piper’s complete attention, enamored as she is with the tattoo on her arm. _Oh, the stories you tell._

“Let’s pretend I’m asleep,” Alex murmurs, and Piper pulls back, startled. Alex smirks, but she’s still got her eyes closed. “And that you’re not gawking at my tattoos.”

“Sorry.”

Alex breathes in, burrowing into her pillow further. “Your statue is near the door. You’ll find it anyway on your way out.” And with that, Alex turns away from her, presumably to go back to sleep.

 _This woman is crazy._ Piper tiptoes out of the room, picking her clothes up off Alex’s floor and putting them on as she walks out of the bedroom and into the living room. When she turns toward the door, there it is, indeed. _Bingo._

It takes an extraordinary amount of self-control not to look back into the bedroom, but Piper does it anyway, closing the door after her softly.

Later, when Piper’s already in the elevator, she asks herself if it really were supposed to be that easy. Back in her car, she inspects the statue for embedded trackers, running her hands over its corners.

 _Well. Thank you. I guess._ Piper slips her phone out of her pocket and dials Polly’s number before putting her on speaker.

“You’re up early,” says Polly, just as Piper starts her car. “Where are you?”

“I have the statue,” Piper says. “I’m coming over.” Silence. “Polly?”

“Did you say you _have_ the statue?”

“I just told you.”

“No, you just _told_ me there was somebody else after it—”

“And I lost it, yes, but I also got it back. Which means you have to retract your comment that I’m a horrible hoodlum.”

Polly laughs. “Jesus, Piper,” she says, coughing before turning serious. “Did you have to kill anyone?”

“What? No! Of course not.” _Or maybe—a different sort of death._ Piper shrugs away the thought as soon as it occurs to her. “I did not have to kill her.”

“Oh,” says Polly. “I assume you just stole it.”

“Not without her permission,” says Piper. “I know how that sounds. It’s complicated. Wait for me.”

“I’ll put some coffee on.”

*

Piper lowers the statue right in the middle of Polly’s table, waiting for her reaction. Polly turns around, two mugs of coffee in hand, and Piper watches the smile on her face widen at the sight.

“You do know it’s not _stealing_ when you had to ask for someone’s permission, right?” says Polly, handing Piper her coffee. “And by permission, what _exactly_ were you talking about?”

“She told me where it was,” says Piper, taking a sip. Polly still makes coffee like she used to – too sweet for Piper’s taste, but she drinks it anyhow. “That woman was a _collector._ It would have been impossible to know where the thing was otherwise.”

“Location? We’re talking warehouse? Stockroom? Give me a visual. Was there a filing system, are they computerized--”

“ _Jesus,_ Pol,” Piper says, putting a hand up. “Can we back up and calm down a little?”

“I have a statue worth half a million dollars on my desk right now, I am _not_ backing up and calming down a _little_ , I am—”

“Two million.”

Polly blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Alex says she was supposed to sell it for two million.”

“Our buyer said five hundred.” And then, after a moment’s realization: “God _damn_ it.”

“Was what I said,” Piper says. “Whoever her contacts are, they have deeper pockets. _Way_ deeper.”

Polly takes the statue off the table and turns it over in her hands, like she’s checking its weight. “And we’re sitting here with this how?”

“I already told you—”

“Your mystery woman just gave it to you, just like that? Come on, Piper. I need a better story.”

“I don’t have to tell you how I do all of my ops, Polly—”

“Your _ops,_ which all too often involve sleeping with— _oh my fucking god,_ you slept with her, didn’t you?”

Piper has to bite down on the tip of her tongue, if only to keep from laughing out loud at the sight of Polly’s huge eyes. She takes a quiet moment to pull herself together. “I came, like, seven times,” Piper deadpans.

“Now that’s just excessive,” Polly says, putting the statue back on the table and breathing in.

*

“I don’t think we should sell.”

Piper lowers her fork, wiping at the corner of her lips before speaking. “ _What?_ Are you fucking kidding? This sale is bankrolling my next vacation, which, _I swear to God_ Polly I am so ready to take—”

“I’m saying--I think Alex should sell.”

Piper blinks, resting her chin on her hands. “I don’t see how _this_ is going to bankroll my next vacation.”

“Oh trust me, Piper,” Polly goes, “You’re getting that vacation.”  

Piper blinks, trying to absorb what Polly is saying. In the end, when she gets it, she swats Polly’s hand that’s resting on the table. “And what does _that_ mean?”

“Cut a deal with Alex. She says she can sell for two million? Then we let her. Then we split it.”

“What makes you think she’d do that for us?”

“Not that she can do it otherwise,” says Polly. “We have the item. And besides -- _you’re_ doing the convincing anyway. Figure something out.”

It would be a lie to say Piper’s heart rate does not quicken slightly at the prospect of _everything_ – seeing Alex again. Going on a vacation. _Going on a vacation with Alex._ Piper tries not to shiver. “And if she says no?”

Polly squints at Piper, tilting her head. “Have you seen yourself, Piper?”  

 “Polly.” Piper tries not to blush at the imagery running in her head.

“I’m just saying,” says Polly. “Book that ticket already.”

*

Piper has just entered her car when her phone starts ringing, an unknown number flashing on her screen. She stares at it, for a moment confused, before figuring it out: _Of course._

“Did you really think you’d get off that easy?”

A shiver runs down Piper’s spine at the sound. “Well,” Piper says, licking absently at her lips. “Yes.”

“You’re lucky you’re gorgeous,” says Alex, laughing. Piper looks around, scanning the area. For some reason, Alex feels so _near._ “Across the street, Sherlock.”

 _Shit._ Piper turns her head and there Alex is, smoking against the building across the street. “How did you find me?”

“People have _hobbies_ ,” Alex says, waving at Piper. “Guess you didn’t check your loot enough for bugs.”

 _Of fucking course._ Piper rolls her eyes. “Maybe I wanted you to find me.”

“Maybe,” Alex says. “So are you going to invite me up?”

Piper thinks about Polly. _Maybe not yet._ “My boss might not be ready.”

“By that you mean Polly Harper, no? Quite a looker,” Alex says. “But not quite like you. Is she?”

Piper knows what Alex is doing, dropping her voice to a purr like that. Something stirs in the pit of her stomach, and Piper finds herself squirming in the driver’s seat. “What do you want, Alex?”

“Same thing you do, kid,” she says. “What do you say we go for a drive?”


	2. knee socks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the heist from Alex's POV. title from arctic monkeys.

Alex waits for the sound of the door shutting before getting up. She puts her glasses on and peeks into the living room slowly before turning to the door. Piper’s gone – and so is the statue.

_How predictable,_ she thinks, picking up her shirt from the floor and putting it on as she walks over to her computer to check the statue’s location. She holds her breath as the tracker stops for a brief moment – _she’s in her car, relax –_ though she doesn’t really let go of the breath she’s holding until it’s moving again, presumably in the direction of their headquarters.

Alex finds herself chuckling at the word: _Headquarters._ There’s a comic feeling to it that Alex can’t really pin down. She watches the dot on her screen amusedly as she prepares her breakfast, thinking, _So this is how it goes with you, huh?_

Of course, Alex knows there’s something entirely creepy about what she’s doing right here – she’s having coffee in front of her tracking console, basically – but it’s not that it was totally unnecessary.

This was a chance at seeing Piper again.

_This is why you always get into trouble Vause,_ Alex tells herself, noting that Piper’s dot has more or less settled on a street corner. By Alex’s estimates, Piper drove for half an hour tops. Alex has just begun writing down the address when her phone starts ringing.

Nicky.

“Good morning, Nichols,” Alex says, biting down on her lip. If Alex is field ops, Nicky is admin-slash-control central, and she is definitely due for an update on the Mendez statue. _Well, shit._

“How’s your morning so far, Vause?” Nicky asks. Good thing she’s sounding a bit sunshiny, or at least by Nicky’s standards. “You ready to come in with the Mendez statue?”

Alex breathes in. “Yeah, about that.”

There’s a quiet moment on the phone when, Alex swears, she almost hears Nicky _tense_. “I don’t like how that sounded,” she says.

Alex sighs, giving it away. “It’s just a temporary setback.”

“You _said_ you have it.”

“ _Almost,_ ” Alex corrects. “I said I _almost_ had it.”

“I thought you were _hedging,_ ” Nicky says. “Jesus Christ. This is a problem.”

Alex finishes the rest of her coffee, by now lukewarm. “And I will fix it.”

“I suppose by this you mean you’ll steal it back.”

“Give me a couple of days.”

“More than enough time for Mendez to figure out he’s missing _something._ ”

Alex groans. _Of course, Mendez._ This is proving to be trickier than she thought. “I’m sure I could set-up a good distraction,” she says.

“Too risky,” Nicky says. “You have until tonight. We’re disposing that before sunrise tomorrow.”

“Nicky.”

“Call me when you have better news,” Nicky just says before hanging up.

_Well, shit._ Alex stares at her phone on the kitchen counter for a moment, trying to remember what she’d been preoccupied with before that call came in. _Oh. Right._ She picks her pen back up and completes writing down Piper’s location.

_Might as well get this started,_ Alex thinks, before heading into the bathroom.

*

Alex double-checks the address in her hand before looking up again to stare at the signage. _Really? A soap shop?_ Alex thinks, amused. She recognizes Piper’s car parked on the curb and that about confirms everything else. _There must be a money laundering joke here somewhere._

Alex finds herself chuckling softly as she scans the area for a place to stay – there’s a small coffee shop across the street, and while Alex thinks she’s already had too much coffee, she goes ahead anyway and finds a table facing the street, slipping out her cigarettes and her phone.

It takes a while, but Alex does not mind the wait; she’s good at keeping busy during idle moments. Most times she can amuse herself just by looking – she and Nicky used to hold contests involving ridiculous stories about passersby, and though Alex almost always lost, she has never been _bored_.

_Ah, Nichols,_ Alex sighs, lighting her first cigarette. It had all been so simple, until it wasn’t. She and Nicky met at the university library, of all places, and they’d dropped out to make a career out of this… _thing._ Alex still refuses to call it a crime – _it’s only a crime when you get caught,_ as Nicky would say, and all she’s doing is putting great art in the hands of people who wanted them the most.

_Now if that isn’t the noblest thing to do,_ Alex thinks, smirking as she lifts her nth cup of coffee to her mouth, the smell of caffeine and smoke waking her up.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. Alex lets her cigarette dangle from the corner of her lip to fish it out, squinting at the screen. It’s a message from Nicky. _Sorry I snapped at you._

Alex shakes her head, thinking of what to reply. She settles for, _It’s all right. Understandable._

_Red says her client is eager to have it to complete his ‘vendetta.’_ That Nicky even bothers with the single quotes makes Alex laugh lightly.

_Vendettas are for the weak,_ Alex texts back. _Or at least, vendettas that don’t involve bodily harm._

_You say that like you take out people on a regular basis,_ Nicky says.

Alex smiles. The ongoing joke is that Alex cannot fire a gun to save her life. _I never get the interesting assignments,_ she just says, crushing her cigarette against the ashtray and lighting up a new one. She peers into her pack – she’s down to three sticks. _If this is going to be a long stakeout, I would run out_ , she just thinks.

She’s halfway through her second-to-the-last one when Piper finally emerges from the door. Alex stands, slipping her mobile back out, staring at the screen until Piper’s number starts flashing. _There you are._ Alex lifts her phone to her ear.   

“Did you really think you’d get off that easy?”

There’s a small gasp at the other end. Alex smiles. “Well,” Piper says, clearing her throat. “Yes.”

“You’re lucky you’re gorgeous,” Alex laughs, noting how Piper sits in her car and looks around, scanning the area, presumably to look for her. _She knows I’m around._ “Across the street, Sherlock.”

Piper turns her head sharply. From this far, Alex can see that she’s met Piper’s eye. “How did you find me?”

“People have _hobbies_ ,” Alex says, waving her cigarette-holding hand at Piper. “Guess you didn’t check your loot enough for bugs.”

“Maybe I wanted you to find me.”

_Would you look at that? A fighter, huh?_ “Maybe,” Alex says. “So are you going to invite me up?”

There’s a pause before Piper says: “My boss might not be ready.”

_Too soon for Meet the Best Friend. Okay._ “By that you mean Polly Harper, no? Quite a looker,” Alex says. “But not quite like you. Is she?”

“What do you want, Alex?”

“Same thing you do, kid,” she says, approaching the car. “What do you say we go for a drive?”

Piper ends the call as Alex leans against the driver’s side door, waiting for Piper to roll the window down.

“Get in loser,” Piper says, sticking her head out slightly. “Where do you want to go?”

*

Alex takes them to a museum, and she watches as Piper tries hard not to roll her eyes as she parks. “Jesus, Alex,” Piper says, killing the engine and looking Alex in the eye. “Are we—is this an op? Because I am _not_ doing an op with you, I would never—”

“Relax,” Alex says smoothly, tugging at her seatbelt and opening her door. “I just want to show you something.”

“I’ve had enough of statues for a night, actually,” says Piper, smirking.

“Who said anything about statues?” Alex lingers long enough to actually catch the tail-end of an eyeroll, and in the end she is unable to keep a laugh in.

Piper nudges Alex’s shoulder lightly. “What are you laughing at?”

Alex shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she walks, a smile on her face.

It’s a small, two-story museum with a visiting exhibit at the lobby, this month’s main draw. It’s from a collector whom Alex once knew quite well. At the entrance, the curator in charge of the exhibit recognizes Alex on sight and gives her a knowing smile.

“Ex-girlfriend?” Piper whispers as she passes Alex, shoulders brushing against hers.

Alex turns her head slightly. “You could say that,” she says in a low voice, smile still on her lips. So she treats _some_ of her patrons better than others. Not that she could be faulted for _this_ one.

“Great to see you again Ms Vause.” The curator approaches them and extends a well-manicured hand toward Alex for a handshake. Alex takes it gently and presses a soft kiss against a knuckle in one suave gesture. “Still the charmer, I see.”

“Still the beauty, I see,” Alex says back. “You seem well, Sylvie.”

“ _Alex_ ,” Sylvie says. _She hasn’t aged a bit,_ Alex thinks, trying not to stare. “You should introduce me to your friend. Is she also into _art_ like you are?”

Alex blinks. _Oh._ “Oh,” she says, for a moment thrown. “This is—”

“Piper Chapman,” says Piper, nudging Alex gently aside as she offers her own hand. Sylvie looks at her warily before reaching out for a soft, tentative, barely-there handshake.

“Ms Chapman,” says Sylvie. “What brings you to our exhibit?”

“Actually—”

“My friend—Piper—is not much of an art aficionado, I’m afraid,” Alex jumps in. “In fact, she’s new to the scene so I’m showing her around.”

“Really?” Sylvie asks, brow raised. In that moment, Alex wishes she still knew her well enough to know what _that_ means. “How generous of you.” She gives the two of them a final look before taking a step back. “Have a nice visit. If you need anything…”

“Thank you Sylvie,” says Alex, still smiling. “We’ve been keeping you.”

Sylvie shrugs, smiling back lazily at Alex. For a moment there, Alex feels like she’s twenty-three and no time has passed. Alex forces herself to blink. “I mean it, Alex,” she says as she turns around to go back to her desk. “Anything you need.”

Alex finds herself nodding, turning to face the paintings on the wall, looking for something to distract herself with – an inordinately bright color on the canvas, an out-of-place curve, a detail she hasn’t seen before, anything. _Focus, Vause._

“Tell me, Alex,” Piper says, standing beside her a while later, shoulder to shoulder. “Did you steal from this woman?”

Alex tries not to be too obvious in her disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks, keeping her voice down. “And _show_ my face to her again? Hell no.”

“Just checking,” Piper says, shrugging. She looks over her shoulder casually, prompting Alex to do the same. Sylvie is still behind her desk, head bowed and focused on something on her table.

Alex lets out a breath quietly. “I stole _for_ this woman. Not _from,_ ” she corrects. “There’s a difference.”

“ _Ah,_ ” says Piper softly, inching closer ever so subtly. Alex can feel her warmth radiating close by, and she is unable to keep the smile out of her lips. “So, do you still—”

“Oh, we are done,” Alex says. The words tumble out comfortably; she’s said it far too often -- and far too many times, to herself. “I mean. I’ve moved on, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Piper pauses before letting out a laugh.

Alex turns to her, blinking. “What?” She can’t help her smile either. “I know how that sounded, but really.”

“Why are we even here, Alex?”

_Impatient aren’t we?_ Alex takes Piper by the wrist and drags her toward the far wall. “I told you,” she says as they walk. “I wanted to show you something.”

“You mean—you brought me here to show me something you _stole_ ,” Piper says in her epiphany-filled voice. “ _Jesus Christ_ , Alex.”

“If you could yell a bit louder,” Alex says, stopping in front of a wall. “I don’t think the guys upstairs heard you.”  

“Sorry.”

“The least apologetic-sounding apology I’ve ever heard.”

“I said _sorry,_ ” Piper repeats, but she’s giggling and _god,_ Alex hates the way Piper’s small sounds put small knots in Alex’s stomach, though not really.  “You now have my full attention. Where is it?”

“You’re standing before it.” Alex waits for the exact moment that the expression on Piper’s face changes from confusion to awe. “You have got to be kidding me,” she says after spending a long quiet while regarding Alex’s showcase – the floor-to-ceiling painting mounted at the far wall, the exhibit’s highlight. “How did you even manage to get out with _this_?”

“Very well, I’d like to think,” says Alex smugly. “Seeing that it’s already _here_.”

“Not what I meant,” Piper says, nudging her shoulder.

“The rest is top secret, as I’m sure you understand.” Alex fixes her glasses as she looks at Piper, amused at the expression of confused anger on Piper’s face.

“ _Fine_ ,” says Piper finally, rolling her eyes and huffing. “Is that all?”

It’s Alex’s turn to roll her eyes. “Don’t give me that,” she says.

“Give you what?”

“ _That,_ ” Alex says again, gesturing randomly at Piper. “Like you’re _not_ impressed.”

Piper tries to keep her laugh in, looking away. “I’m not,” she says, pressing her lips together. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

“A _little_?” Alex says, smiling. True, Alex doesn’t really need any sort of _validation_ – damn, the pay’s enough in that department – nor does she need validation from a second-rate art thief like Piper, but.

_But._ Alex looks at Piper, taking the sight of her unimpressed face in – the way her lips part just _so_ , and that bit of sparkle in her eye as she talks, one so small she’d probably deny it flat out and never admit to having it ever.

_But here we are._ So maybe sometimes Alex craves a bit of approval from certain girls.

“It’s a fucking floor-to-ceiling painting, Piper,” she says. “It’s _massive_.”

“I’m not blind,” says Piper, laughing out loud now. “So. Is this your biggest haul?”

“When you put it that way you make it sound like I fished it right out of the ocean.”

“You know what I mean.”

And the thing is she _does_. Sure, Piper’s a second-rate art thief, but for some reason, Alex _gets_ her. “Fine,” Alex says, shrugging. “So this is my biggest haul.”

“So you actually had me drive up here just to let you brag?”

Alex smirks. Admittedly, that _was_ part of the whole point. “Kind of like showing you a CV,” Alex says. “Treat it like the highlights portion of any resume.”

“Resume?”

Alex nods. “Yeah. And right now, my resume is saying I don’t fuck around with small-time dealers.” Truth be told, Alex likes to think of this as her sort of ‘finishing move’ – at this point, most middle-men cave in, letting Alex do as she pleases without any further word.

Then again, as it turns out, Piper is _not ‘_ most middle-men.’ “Listen,” she says flatly, looking Alex in the eye. Alex tries not to let on that she’s stunned that Piper has a comeback to _that._ “I dislike your implication about these ‘small-time dealers.’”

“What implication?” Alex says, blinking innocently.

Piper dismisses her mock ignorance. “For the record, I don’t fuck around with small-time dealers either.”

Alex almost asks back _Really?_ out of automatic impulse. Thankfully, she is able to stop herself at the last moment and instead manages to keep her mouth shut for the time being.

“Besides,” Piper continues. “Whatever our size, we still have your statue.”

_Now if that isn’t the truest thing right now._ “Right,” Alex concedes, lowering her voice. “About that statue.”

“So _now_ we’re done with your _resume,_ ” says Piper.

“I need that statue back, Piper.”

Piper clutches her chest in mock surprise. “Oh really?” she says. “And you expect me to just hand it right over?”

“As easy as you had taken it from beside my apartment door,” says Alex. _As easy as you had fallen into my bed._ She finds herself biting down on her lip at the thought.

Piper makes a show of pausing as if to consider Alex’s statement. “How about… no?”

“Piper.”

“ _You_ have already gotten me into a lot of trouble as it is,” says Piper. “I don’t see how just handing it back to you is going to help my cause at all.”

Alex narrows her eyes at Piper. For some reason, she doesn’t sound _beyond_ convincing – in fact, it sounds like Piper is waiting for _something._

_Like an opening,_ Alex thinks. Alex knows a thing or two about that. “Listen,” Alex says, putting her hand casually on the small of Piper’s back and nudging her gently toward the exit. “I have a proposition.”

Piper just looks at her with her brow lifted slightly, but she goes along anyhow, falling in step with Alex. “A proposition,” she just says. “Interesting.”

*

“So basically, you’re talking me into double-crossing my own boss.”

“Right.”

Alex sits back and watches Piper process everything, her mouth opening and closing as she fumbles with her words. Deep down though, Alex feels like she’s _got_ this, Piper’s hesitation notwithstanding.

_It just needs a little push._

“Think about that vacation, Pipes,” Alex says, trying not to sound too eager. “You, me, Santorini…”

Piper sighs, closing her eyes, her knuckles now pale as her grip tightens around the steering wheel. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What I’m doing will get us the money,” Alex says.

“Or get us killed,” says Piper.

“Oh come on, Piper,” Alex laughs. “What’s a _little_ danger?”

Piper breathes in deeply, opening her eyes. Slowly, she turns her head to look at Alex. “A _little_ danger?” she deadpans. “Didn’t you say you were working for the _Russians_?”

“ _A_ Russian, singular,” Alex corrects. “Also, technically, Red is a _patron,_ I don’t work for her.”

“Whatever,” says Piper. “Your _patron_ would probably go after us with hired goons. _Plural._ ”

“We’ll have a bigger kingpin. We’ll figure something out along the way.”

“ _We?_ Why exactly am I getting into this mess again?”

“Because I’m buying the statue back from you.”

“A statue that I can very well just let my boss sell to our original buyers.”

“For a _fraction_ of what I’m about to give you,” Alex says smoothly, fixing her glasses. “On top of everything else I’m about to give _you_.”

That flusters Piper; that much, Alex can tell. Just like that, the air in the car is charged again with something electric and delicious.

“What makes you so sure this would work?” Piper says, shaking it off. “Think you could trust me with this plan?”

“I don’t,” Alex says. “But I’m still in your car, and I know you have a gun here somewhere. You still haven’t shot me. Counts for something.”

Piper stares long and hard at her steering wheel, silently contemplating Alex’s offer. Alex sits back and lets her, rolling down the window and lighting up.

After the quiet, Piper breaks the ice with: “For the record, I don’t trust you either.”

Alex breathes out, blowing smoke outside Piper’s passenger-side window. _This is it._ “Won’t respect you if you did,” she replies. And then, after a long pause: “You in?”

Piper shakes her head lightly as she turns the ignition back on. “Fuck it,” she just says. “Show me the money.”

*

It takes Piper forty-five minutes to get the statue, and Alex spends them in Piper’s car, nervously smoking through half a pack of cigarettes.

“What took you so long?” Alex asks as Piper slides into the driver’s seat. Piper looks at her and rolls her eyes before handing her a bag, presumably containing the statue.

“Sorry if I took a long time _stealing_ from my own boss.”

Alex sighs. “It’s not like we’re totally leaving her out of it,” she says, trying to tone down her impatience. “We already talked about this.”

Piper tenses at the wheel for a moment before relenting. “Fine,” she says, jaw set. “Can we just focus for a bit? The statue’s _right here._ Now what?”

_Cutting to the chase quickly, aren’t we?_ In the darkness of Piper’s car, Alex can see Piper’s eye flash with something _sinister_. _She must really want that vacation,_ Alex thinks.

“Alex.” Piper calls again, deadpan. “Now what?”

Alex clears her throat, fiddling with her phone. She thinks about calling Nicky briefly before deciding against it. “Now we go and sell this,” she just says. “Drive.”

Piper drives; no questions asked. It’s a tense and quiet half hour. Alex takes them to a shipyard, and as she parks, Piper yawns. “Damn,” she says, rubbing her eyes. “You sure are predictable.”

“Shut up,” Alex just says. She lights another cigarette; she needs something to do with her hands. She’s sold to this group only once – an urn they wanted to buy back from a brother’s mistress. That earned her two million and a half. _For an urn._ Alex finds herself shaking her head as she blows out smoke outside Piper’s window. _The things people do for sentimentality._

Alex looks at the statue in her hand. _A symbol of victory,_ she just thinks. _Battling over custody of a small thing—men are baffling._

“Do we wait long?” Piper breaks in softly, tapping Alex’s shoulder and gesturing for her cigarettes. “What?” she asks off the small surprised look on Alex’s face. “I need something to do with my hands.”

_Well, fuck._ Alex smiles, tossing the pack over. “Where’s your gun?” she asks.

“My gun?”

“Your gun,” Alex repeats.

For someone who may have been just told there would be some sort of _firefight,_ Piper looks uncharacteristically calm. She turns away as she lights her cigarette, rolling her own window down. “Glove compartment,” she tells Alex nonchalantly. “You expecting to shoot someone tonight?”

Their last business deal had ended in a firefight; it’s the reason why Alex dislikes trading with Kubra’s people. That, and the fact that they also operated a drug ring. _Drugs get you killed,_ Nicky would say. _Whether you use them or sell them._

“Just a precaution,” says Alex, checking the glove compartment. _Gun – check. Statue – check._ Alex turns her phone over in her hand. _Any minute now._

“Why don’t _you_ have a gun?” Piper asks.

_Any minute now._ “A precaution too,” Alex says, distracted. Her phone buzzes in her hand, once – the missed call was their signal. “Here we go.”

“What? You’re just going to walk out of the car with _that_?”

“And walk back here with a suitcase full of money, yep.”

“Alex.”

Alex shuts the door, drawing from her cigarette one last time before dropping it, crushing the butt underfoot. “ _Relax_ , Pipes.”

“The last thing you tell someone you _actually_ want to calm down.”

Alex sighs, rolling her eyes. “What did you want me to say?”

“You asked for a gun that you’re _not_ taking with you.”

“This is why you can’t sell things.”

“ _Alex._ ”

“I got this,” Alex says, poking her head back into the passenger seat window to look at Piper. “Okay?” And then: “If there’s gunfire, get me. All right?”

Alex catches the beginnings of Piper’s “What the fuck?” before fully pulling back and turning around, gripping the trophy tighter in one hand and shoving her other hand in her pocket.

_Show time._

*

_I should have taken that fucking gun,_ Alex thinks as she runs back to Piper’s car. _What was I even thinking?_ She startles as she hears another warning shot – fired in the air, or so she hopes. _That, or Kubra’s new boys are blind._ Alex pauses to catch her breath, back against a wall. _Surely, it cannot be that hard to shoot someone my size._

She turns her head toward the sound of tires screeching. _Piper._

“About fucking time,” Alex gasps, fumbling with the door handle as Piper skids to a halt a few steps away. Piper looks back at her with the look in her eye that tells Alex that she’s trying so hard to keep it together.

“What the fuck happened?”

Alex shakes her head as she climbs into the front seat. “Drive now. Talk later.”

“Fucking _hell,_ ” Piper curses, putting the car in reverse. Alex eyes the mirrors nervously before turning toward the glove compartment – it’s open and empty. When she looks at Piper again, she finds the gun in her wheel-holding hand. Noticing the look on Alex’s face, Piper just says: “A _precaution_.” Outside, the shots sound further and further away as Piper continues to drive out.

Alex holds her breath until they’re well into the highway.

“You all right?” Piper asks as Alex finally relaxes, sinking against her seat like she’s boneless. Her knees are still shaking.

“I’m fine,” Alex manages, swallowing hard. “Just let me catch my breath.”

Piper lets out a laugh before putting her gun away. “ _Seriously,_ ” she says, gritting her teeth. “We got _shot_ at, and you just want to _catch your breath._ ”

Alex has to laugh herself. She knows very well how ridiculous all of this just seems. _All for a fucking trophy – that wasn’t even the right one to begin with._ “Jesus,” she says out loud, exhaling. “This mission was a fucking high, wasn’t it?”

“You call that near-death thing a high?”

“Yeah, what else would you call it?”

“How does _ambush_ sound?”

Come to think of it – that’s exactly what it was. After all, Alex had explicitly requested: _No guns._

_And yet, there they were. Just not very good, but still there._ “It’s complicated,” Alex says. “Best forgotten. After all—” Alex pauses for effect as she slowly pulls out the envelope from inside her jacket. “We got what we came for.”

Piper tries to keep her eyes on the road, but Alex sees the exact moment that Piper actually _sees_ what’s inside it; that tell-tale gleam in her eye that tells Alex, _Oh, she’s definitely here for this._

“So. Still mad?” Alex asks.

“Let’s just say I’m about a million dollars _less_ mad,” Piper replies, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

_Actually just half a million,_ Alex thinks, but then again: _Maybe later._

“A good thing, I suppose,” Alex just says instead.


End file.
